


Never Have I Ever

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alcohol, BDSM, Creampie, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Spencer Reid, Drinking, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Multiple Orgasms, Never Have I Ever, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, brat reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: After a case involving kink culture, Spencer is assigned to judge the girls’ game of Never Have I Ever. Later, him and Reader compare scores.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 15
Kudos: 647





	1. Chapter One

There’s something about things that are taboo that just makes them exciting. Whether it be clandestine lovers meeting in a grimy, cheap ass hotel room to escape from the reality of their day to day lives or the way swingers conspire to share a night with someone else’s body.

What really sucks about the taboo stuff is that it’s that way for a reason. Which explains why I’m currently standing in the middle of a sex dungeon with a dead body in the corner.

Great.

I rubbed my neck as I looked around at the plethora of familiar toys and tricks hanging in the basement. Although it seemed counterintuitive, it was hard for me to imagine how something like this could go so wrong.

Color me surprised when it seemed like the person least preoccupied in this den of sin was Reid, who was currently crouched in front of the victim like she was the _only_ interesting thing in the room.

“See anything Reid?” I called from across the room, currently inspecting the rack of whips and paddles to spot any freshly drawn blood. No dice.

“Yeah, it’s weird…” That was the understatement of the century. “What specifically? There’s a lot of weird down here.”

“I… don’t see any evidence of sexual assault, or a sexual component of any form.” He stood up as he heard me approaching him, still fixated on the woman in front of him. Never once did he take a glance at the objects surrounding him, even as he was _clearly_ talking about them.

Did he just have a really tough stomach, or is he lowkey a little freaky? I wasn’t sure, but I did make a note to figure it out later.

“We’re literally in a sex dungeon.” I remarked, motioning my arm to the room around us. That was the first time he looked around, but even then it was with the most disinterested face I’ve ever seen from a guy who is almost _never_ disinterested. Not even when someone was talking about the fucking Kardashians.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why it’s weird. It’s almost like someone put her here to make us think that it’s involved.”

That was when the local sheriff finally piped in, now that he was apparently done gawking at the contents of the room. “You don’t think it is?”

I hated how judgmental he sounded. It was very clear that he felt this was the poor girl’s fault that she was murdered. Luckily, Spencer did not share that belief.

“No, I don’t. I think she was placed here on purpose, but I don’t think it was a member of the community.”

Dipshit wasn’t taking the answer lightly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. These people tie each other up, choke each other, and draw blood for fun. They’re all batshit crazy.”

Reid watched as I rolled my eyes, biting on my tongue as I turned to him with a pissed off face. He shared my frustration with raised eyebrows, but then decided he wasn’t going to leave it at that.

“You know, contrary to popular belief and to some extent our own intuition, psychopathic sexual sadism is incompatible with the BDSM community at large. I don’t think this unsub is part of the community at all. Or at least, he hasn’t been for some time.”

My mouth dropped open a bit as Reid spoke with such confidence on a topic like this. Sometimes this boy made me wonder… 

“Really, a true psychopathic sadist wouldn’t be satisfied because he would know that the woman was consenting, which ruins the fantasy. He wouldn’t be accepted, either. With the blacklists as extensive as they are, he wouldn’t be able to hurt more than a few women before effectively being shut out of the system.”

Still reeling from listening to Reid talk about this like we were chatting over the newspaper and a cup of coffee, I realized he was hoping I would help him reach a conclusion.

Replaying what he said in my mind, I realized where his train of thought was leading us.

“Is it possible she had only just met him, and that’s why he killed her? Maybe she was _trying_ to blacklist him.”

With that adorable contemplative face, he rubbed at his jaw and glanced around the room.

“It would have to have been _super_ recent. A successful dominant/submissive relationship requires a great amount of trust and affection. Without it the relationship would never last more than a couple dates, if that. I’m surprised he would even know this place exists. If it were me—“

Wait, what? If it were him? That certainly piqued my interest.

“I would have never trusted him in my home. Definitely not in a room like this.”

Was he implying he had a room like this, or…?

I never got to follow that delicious train of thought, because I was disrupted once again by the fucking loser of a sheriff, who was quickly becoming my enemy #1.

“It sounds like a bunch of crazies making trouble for themselves if you ask me. If she wanted to be dominated, isn’t death just the most extreme form of that?”

This time it wasn’t me who looked more annoyed. I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to defend me, knowing that I was no stranger to the BDSM community. It had been a source of ridicule between me and the other ladies on the team for quite some time. I’m sure the guys knew, too, but they had the decency (and sense of self-preservation) to avoid the topic.

“That doesn’t make _any_ sense. A submissive partner is the one in charge. They are the ones with all the power in an encounter. _They_ negotiate the rules. _They_ control the safe word. People always assume that testosterone and other masculine traits are associated with dominants, but they’re _not_. And the idea that mental illness is higher in BDSM is objectively untrue, with studies showing lower rates of psychological sadism _and_ masochism, as well as garden variety depression and anxiety.”

But if he was just defending me? It didn’t make it any less hot. Still, I don’t think he noticed the rest of the team had walked in at some point in his rant, and he turned to the sheriff with an exasperated look.

“If you think about it, BDSM is not all that different from… riding a rollercoaster, or playing professional sports!”

The man shook his head, but Reid continued, his hands doing that thing where they have to conduct his entire monologue.

“It’s just the thrill of losing control in a controlled environment. Knowing that someone trusts you _that_ much, or knowing that you will be taken care of. They’re understandable human impulses. They’re not excuses for why someone deserved to die for trusting the wrong person!”

The air in the room grew cold, but I could feel a distinct heat rising in my cheeks. I cleared my throat when I realized that everyone in the room was now staring intently at the self-declared genius, and I realized I _really_ needed to get out of this room before Reid did something else to shatter any preconceived notion I had about him.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?” He cringed, but Rossi just shoved his hands in his pockets with that look that told me he’d heard too much.

“That’s not why they’re staring.”

He was the first to make a swift exit, followed by the sheriff. It left the rest of us staring with a mixture of concern and fascination while Reid tried to break apart Rossi’s comment to hopefully reach a satisfactory conclusion.

Putting my hand on Reid’s shoulder, I smiled at the innocent, confused expression he gave in response.

“Stop reading those books, my angel. You’re going to corrupt that beautiful little head of yours.”

“What books?” He replied slowly, glancing back to the door where the team was quickly exiting. I didn’t bother answering, knowing he would just deny it no matter what I said.

“Come on, sweet boy. Let’s go.”

Still confused, I could hear him repeating the phrase under his breath as he trailed behind me. “ _Sweet boy_ …?”

— _A Couple Days Later_ —

I thought to myself that it should be a relatively interesting case. I couldn’t wait to see how he reacted. But as the days stretched on I was mostly just growing tired of having to explain the basics of BDSM to a bunch of stuck up small town sheriffs. Until I didn’t have to.

I didn’t know where exactly Reid had picked up his _extensive_ knowledge about the lifestyle, but I wasn’t going to complain.

After all, who knows where he learns any of the shit he does? But from the sounds of it, I’d love to get my hands on that erotica or porn that he’s learning from.

It would be literature or porn, right? Like, there’s no way that sweet little Reid would know all the most intricate knots of Shibari bondage from experience? That’s ridiculous, right?

Even worse, it was hard to tell if he was touching me more often than usual or if it was just my brain making things up. It was never anything that risqué. It was things like… finding him standing behind me more often, this hand on the small of my back as he passed by.

Ugh, maybe I just really need to get laid. For god’s sake, I was trying to convince myself that _Reid_ would be that bold.

Maybe it was just me being corrupted by the constant stream of sexual things. Like the current situation, which was me in the bathroom of my hotel room adjusting my harness and fluffing my short pleated skirt. I would say it was discrimination picking me to play as bait for this creepy fucking murderer, but I had to admit it made sense.

For starters, I had already gone out of my way to purchase an outfit before we even came up with the idea of baiting him.

I wasn’t crazy about the idea of seducing a murderer in the hopes that he’d pick me to murder next, but the things I do for this job know no bounds.

“Do you need help?”

I jumped at the sound of Reid in the doorway, staring me intently in the face. He scared the ever living shit out of me.

“Holy shit. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I’ve been in the room this whole time. You didn’t shut the door.” He gestured to the beds on the other side of the wall.

“What, should I have? You gonna peep on me, Reid?”

He just grinned a playful, devilish look that honestly made me blush. I turned back to the mirror, pouting as I struggled to readjust the straps around my back. Even though I saw him walk behind me, I was still surprised enough to gasp when his finger hooked under the strap, flipping it from its twisted position.

I couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Kitten?”

I was so used to the word being given as a command, that I swear I almost replied, ‘ _Yes sir_?’ But I quickly realized he was talking about the word on the front of my collar.

“Uh. Yeah. You know. Sub shit.”

“It suits you.”

The warm, stale air in this tiny bathroom was suffocating. Since when did he know how to flirt like this? Is that what he was doing?

Luckily if he was, he took pity on me, taking a step back and looking me over from behind me. I watched him in the mirror, chewing on my bottom lip as I tried to read his expression. He looked… troubled.

“Does it look bad?” I asked, spinning on my heels to face him again. Maybe if I could see his face, I thought, I wouldn’t be so hot and bothered about my fucking coworker.

“It’s… short.”

Well, yeah, that was kind of the point. His hands shifted in his pockets, and I tried not to focus on his crotch. Because honestly, if he _did_ have an erection right now, that information would _not_ help this situation.

“So I’m good bait, then?” I asked with a coy smile.

“ _Yes_ ,” he replied a little too enthusiastically before clearing his throat. “Yeah. He’ll uh… He’ll talk to you. Well, at least… I would.”

Okay, well that was enough to send my heart rate through the fucking roof. As flattering as it was, I wondered if it would be enough. After all, Reid wasn’t exactly the most domineering man, and he certainly wasn’t a fucking psycho murderer.

“Well… Guess we should… go then. Lead the way.”

He seemed a little too excited to follow through on that request, tossing me his much larger jacket without even asking me to put it on. I smirked as I slid it over my shoulders, enjoying the way the soft fabric smelled like him.

I really had to stop thinking shit like that.

He didn’t make it any easier, with his hand catching my wrist and holding it the entire way out of the hotel and into the car. I don’t exactly know why it had such an overpowering effect on me, but it did.

Once his hand was gone it felt cold and empty. But I couldn’t worry about that, because I needed to be prepared to catch a killer. So pushing away thoughts of those hands in dramatically more provocative places, I hopped out of the car without him.

He would be close behind, I knew, like he always was. Of all the others on the team, he had always been my favorite partner. Something about the way he looked at me just always assured me that he would do anything to keep me safe.

I would need that tonight, walking into kink night at the local club to sniff out a murderer with an affinity for girls a whole lot like me.

Settling into a spot at the bar, I couldn’t stop the tiny smile that tugged at my lips as I saw him take a seat at a nearby table with Prentiss. Figures she would be the other one to cover with him - she was definitely familiar with some dark shit.

Every now and then I could see him glance over at me with a knowing smile, loving the way I blatantly reacted by trying to hide my smile.

That was, until another, less familiar face approached me at the bar.

“Hey, kitten.”

The dark voice sent shivers down my spine, a large pit forming in my stomach as any hint of a smile fell. Reid gave a small upward nod to tell me to turn around, and I took a deep breath before doing so.

“Hello, sir.” I responded with a tooth-achingly sweet tone. The title felt disgusting on my tongue. Clutching my drink so tightly I was worried I might just shatter the glass under my grip, I knew that I needed to set it down.

I’d grown so used to the typical rules of being a woman existing in a bar, that it felt so very, deeply wrong to try to get a man to drug me.

“You’ve been sitting alone at this bar all night. What’s that about?” He lifted his hand, the rough skin of his palm against my chin as he lifted my face to look at him. “Where’s your master?”

He smelled like cheap cigarettes and whiskey, and I felt my stomach churning as he moved my face like he were inspecting the contours of my cheekbones.

“He’s standing right in front of me.” I managed to say within his grip, and it at least earned me control of my face back. With that, I noticed that Prentiss was now alone at the table.

I couldn’t see him at first; I felt Reid’s presence approaching us. But he wasn’t stupid enough to break my cover, instead standing at the bar behind the unsub and ordering a drink for himself.

I tried not to watch him. I needed to pay attention to the person currently in front of me.

“That’s quite bold of you,” he said, “I’m used to much… cattier kittens.”

What a stupid fucking pun. Although, part of me had to admit it would be cute if Reid had said it, instead. It was hard not to think about him when I could see him staring daggers at this man’s head.

I placed my drink down next to him, leaning forward so I wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer. Not that the smell was any better.

“I can be a brat, if that’s what you want.” I slurred, making eye contact with my fellow agent at the bar in a desperate attempt to stay sane. “Kitten claws are small but… they can be pretty sharp, you know.”

The man laughed bitterly in my ear as I felt the motion of his arm undoubtedly slipping something into my drink before putting his arm around my waist.

As long as he didn’t have a fucking knife or gun right now, I’d be fine. I just needed to keep reminding myself of that.

Leaning back, I placed both hands on his chest in an attempt to keep some distance between us. He picked up my drink, handing it back to me while picking up his own.

“Well… It’s not as much fun without the chase, right?”

A younger, more naive girl might not be able to feel the bad vibes rolling off the pleasure he seemed to derive from my clear discomfort. I’m convinced he could feel it. That’s why he sought me out in the first place.

“You should drink. It helps with the pain.”

Looking down at the drink, I suddenly realized how he had convinced so many girls to follow him. He’d done exactly this; back a girl into a corner and strong-arm her into drinking. It wasn’t a strange strategy - many people do it. It’s not weird to ask someone to drink more at a bar where you’re trying to hook up.

It’s even less strange to give orders when you’re looking for a submissive. And if she were just a little vulnerable after a bad break up or being new to the scene? She’d want to please him.

“Why would I want to help with the pain?” I asked with an unfortunate tremble in my voice, “Isn’t that the best part?”

Gripping the same wrist Reid had led me by earlier, he brought the drink in front of my face. I turned my face slightly, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“Trust me. You’ll want it tonight.”

My nostrils flared and my lips tightened into a flat line as his grip on me got tighter. Reid had moved closer at some point, and I flashed my eyes to him in a way that hopefully got my point across.

_I got this_. I can get him.

“Didn’t you say you wanted a brat?” I whined, twisting my wrist to slosh the liquid around in the cup. “Why would I listen to you?”

“Ah. You’re right. Why don’t we have a seat. Get to know each other a little bit better. It’s all about trust, isn’t it?”

Sucking the side of my lip into my mouth, I rocked back and forth on my feet to try and decide which was safer. Then again, it didn’t really matter. Nothing would happen to me, right? We were in a huge group of people.

What’s he going to do?

My question was answered as he grabbed my drink and hooked my arm with his, practically dragging me over to a table near Prentiss. Thankfully, her presence soothed my anxieties until Reid joined her once again.

“So what do you want to know, kitten?”

It was the first time Spencer heard him call me that, and if the grinding of his jaw was any indication, he did _not_ like it.

“What’s your name?”

“Jason.”

Well, he didn’t even bother giving a fake name. That was refreshing, I guess.

“I’m Maud.” It was a small tribute to one of the greats, a joke that I’d made with Reid prior to coming. He had gone on a long rant about Maud West, London’s “only female detective” who often spoke at length about how she dressed like a man to avoid the scrupulous male gaze.

“Maud? A unique name. Very beautiful, too. The most beautiful I’ve ever heard.”

Seriously, dude? He was laying it on a little thick, no?

“Makes sense it would belong to one of the most beautiful girls I’ve seen. Although, I must admit I prefer kitten.”

I was so bored during his little spiel that I had actually almost drank from my cup. It was kind of frightening, actually, how easy it was to mix this guy up with every other boring fuck that tried to trick women.

Maud might’ve been onto something, pretending to be a man.

“Do you come here often? I’ve never seen you before.”

Cocky of him to imply he knows every girl who steps foot in a crowded bar, but whatever. I already knew he was an arrogant prick.

“No, actually, this is my first night here.” I said over the music, leaning forward to hopefully distract him from the fact I still refused to drink my most definitely laced drink.

“I didn’t really want to come, you know, with all the murders. Did you hear about those?”

“Can’t say I have.” But his actions betrayed his words. He leaned back, displaying his open chest for me. It was obvious he was very proud of his handiwork, and the fact that I had taken notice of it.

“Apparently some creep has been going around drugging girls. Including here, at this bar. Can you believe that?”

He didn’t react, which was a damning reaction in and of itself.

“If you come here often, you might have even seen him. They posted a sketch of him all over the news. After I saw it, it was kind of obvious to me why he needed to drug women, you know?”

Oh, well, that got a reaction. He had sat up, his hand fidgeting with his drink as he leaned forward into my words in an undeniably defensive position.

“Wouldn’t know. Don’t look at men like that.”

I nodded, holding onto the top of my glass with one hand while the other waved in the air between us.

“It’s just crazy. I heard those FBI people on the news saying that this dude, who if you ask me is a complete coward, can’t even get it up, and _that’s_ why he hates women so much. Can you believe that? Like it’s my fault he’s got a busted dick.”

His response was immediate and filled with rage.

“Did someone ask you?”

“What?” I asked, feigning innocence as I twirled a strand of hair in my hand, tilting my head to the side. I could spot Reid ready to snap into action from the corner of my eye.

“You said if I ask you. I didn’t ask.”

I took a deep breath, trying to work up the courage to hopefully get this guy to do something. “Oh. Well, I’m just saying. He can’t really call himself a dom if he can’t even get it up without stabbing some chick, right?”

Suddenly, his hand was on mine, crushing it against the drink as he jerked it up. The liquid splashed onto the table, and I let out a yelp at the sensation.

“Listen here, _bitch_ ,” he growled, “How about you just drink your drink and shut the fuck up about shit you know nothing about?”

Struggling under his grip, I tried to yank my hand away as I shouted, “Hey! You’re hurting me!”

“The pain’s the best part, isn’t it? That’s what you said. Now come on, drink your fucking drink and I’ll show you exactly how easy it is for me to _get it up_.”

My eyes widened then clenched shut as I felt his short nails dig into the skin of my arm. Son of a bitch was stronger than I thought he would be.

“Let go of me!” I screeched, knocking my drink over on the table while looking into those dark, soulless eyes as he yelled, “Now who’s the _coward_?”

Trapped by the stare, I didn’t even notice Reid appearing behind him until he had already slammed Jason’s head down on the table in front of us, ripping his arms away from me.

“She said to let her go, you piece of shit!”

I honestly couldn’t tell if my heart was pounding more from the fact I’d been in the grips of a murderer or from the way Reid’s wild eyes glimmered as he held this man down.

“Jason Malcolm, you’re under arrest for the murders of Cheryl Adams, Paula Perry, and Daniella Edwards. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

As the man writhed underneath his grasp, Reid looked up at my disheveled appearance and the red marks on my arm. He paused his recitation of the familiar Miranda rights as if to ask me if I were okay.

I nodded to answer the question he never asked, and soon enough he continued. “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

Finally able to breathe, I felt Prentiss’ hand on my shoulder as I watched Reid drag this man out of the bar with ease. For a long moment I thought to myself that I might have been a little bit wrong about him. 

— _That Weekend_ —

Finally back in familiar territory, my time in the bar could be better spent doing my favorite thing: acting like a fucking fool with my favorite group of gals… and Reid.

Truthfully, it was the first real interaction I’d had with him since we returned from the case. Which, granted, was only a few days ago. The girls had insisted that it was the best way to move past the bullshit that we had to put up with last week, and I had to agree.

I think we were all a little surprised when Reid agreed to join us. At least, I was. The other girls just shot me that look they always give me when they want to fuck with me.

But I wasn’t _upset_ he had come. A part of me was very excited by it. I got to know him pretty well in the jet and working cases, but it had been a long time since we had seen each other outside of work. And as ridiculous as I could be at work, I was significantly more unhinged in an environment like this.

I was a little worried it might scare him away. But then again, if it did, he wasn’t ever going to be able to handle it, anyway.

We slid into a large C shaped booth, and I made a point to sit next to Reid. It’s not that I didn’t love the ladies, but I just felt like it would be more fun to poke fun of him than them tonight. It was only a little embarrassing to show up in the same harness from the case, especially following that awkward, intimate moment Reid and I shared in the bathroom but… here we were.

If he wanted to get a taste of drunk me, I would give him a front row seat.

Which… He quickly got.

We had already drained an entire handle of vodka within an hour between the five of us. I bet Reid could tell you the math of how many shots that equals, but I’m not going to be the one to ask him.

I will say, though, that I loved myself for sitting next to him, because he was the only thing keeping me upright. My head kept lolling over onto him as I leaned against him every time he talked (which, was a lot).

Currently, he was explaining the different methods of distilling vodka, which, I unfortunately had no interest in right now. I could tell by the dull looks of the other women that they were equally lost.

How did he think clearly like that? Was he actually an alien?

“Okay, okay, sshhhh.” I slurred, slipping my hand over his mouth as he looked over to me with what felt like a smile.

“I have an idea. Okay. Listen. Ladies. Let’s play… Never have I ever.”

Giggles erupted from around the table from the other ladies before they each had their own unique responses to the suggestion.

“That’s not fair, though. I’m a _mom_. I don’t do anything exciting anymore!” JJ whined, and I used my free hand to wave the thought away. “You’re a _hot_ mom, JJ. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Garcia was mostly just already planning her schemes, whispering things to Prentiss where I wouldn’t be able to see. That’s fine. She could keep her secrets for now.

A distant, incoherent mumbling against my hands alerted me to the fact my hand was _still_ covering Reid’s mouth, and I quickly removed the barrier.

“I want to play,” he said with a challenging stare, which I returned with a truly baffled expression.

“My sweet summer child, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Garcia said with an unfortunate grimace, followed quickly by my own commentary.

“Yeah, no offense but it gets pretty rowdy with us playing. I don’t want you to feel weird.”

“Weirder than not playing? How is that even possible?”

“I have an idea. How about you judge us? Keep us honest.” Prentiss offered with a shrug.

“How is _he_ going to judge _us_? He’s _drunk_.” I pointed out as my hand found its way back to his face, cupping his cheek while I maintained my eye contact with the girls. 

I can’t explain it. I just couldn’t keep my hands off of him.

“I’m not drunk, I’ve barely drank anything! You’ve had double what I had!” His voice had taken on that high pitched squeal that I had always found so endearing. My mouth dropped at the accusation, my eyebrows jumping a few inches up my face.

“Rude, Reid!” I shouted, “I can handle my liquor better than you!”

“Oh, really? This coming from the girl who calls me right after last call, absolutely _shit faced_ every night she goes out?”

… What?

I couldn’t control the way my head shook at the news, a flabbergasted grin as the other ladies broke out in uncontrollable laughter at the accusation.

“That has _never_ happened!”

“It’s happened on several occasions, actually.” He corrected in his typical fashion, pulling out his phone as if to prove a point. Then I realized, that’s exactly what he was doing.

Wait, did I actually fucking call him? What the fuck did I say?!

“Play it! Play it! Play it!” The girls had at some point started chanting, egging on the boy genius who was now pulling up his voicemail while I hung on his arm.

“Do not play that!” I shouted, petrified by what drunk me would tell the kid.

But it was already playing, and it sure enough was my _very_ drunk voice whining through the phone.

“ _Sppeennncceerrr! Spencer why didn’t you pick up? I have very important news for you. Okay, I’ll just tell you now. Okay. Did you know… That you are my_ ** _favorite_** _genius?_ ”

I could actually feel my face turning red, and this time it wasn’t from the alcohol.

“ _You just, you know. You are… The cutest, smartest, best angel boy of the BAU_. _And I really wanna tell you—_ ”

The recording went silent for a moment, and in the distance you could hear my fits of giggling. I sank into the chair, my arm still attached to Spencer’s as the rest of the women listened carefully.

“ _I want to tell you that I love you sooo much. Like, more than the whole universe. Did you know that, Spence? Pffft. Of course you do. You know everything. Like, tell me one well-known fact you don’t know. Wait! Shit, this is a voicemail. Also that’s impossible, right? Okay. Come up with your answer and then call me back. Okay? I love you Spencer! Goodnight!_ ”

Basically low enough in the booth to be on the ground, I tried (and failed) to smack the phone out of his hand as the dreadful sound of my voice finally stopped.

Garcia was the first to speak, fanning herself to keep back the heat in her cheeks from the laughter. “It’s too cute. Someone stop them. I’m going to die.” 

Crawling out from my position essentially under the table, I pushed away from the stupid, cute boy to my left as I detached myself from his side.

“Well. Now you’re my ** _least_** ****favorite genius ever. So record _that_!”

“I didn’t record the voicemail. You did.” He corrected, earning an annoyed and daring, “ **Wow**.”

“Weren’t we supposed to play a game?” Prentiss finally remembered, but I’m not sure if it was meant to give me relief. In fact, it seemed to be aimed to cause me more ridicule. We all knew how these scores usually went.

“Do I still have to be the judge?” Reid complained just a bit, shifting his cup on the table as he tried to decide whether or not he should keep drinking.

I was already long past that thought, continuing to pour the stupid potato liquid into my cup each time it was empty.

“Yes!” The girls shouted in a unison that was actually pretty impressive. Thankfully, he let himself be outvoted.

“(Y/n), you start. You better already have one, since you always take a year and a half to come up with one.” Prentiss instructed, and I nodded, placing both hands on the table to get into the proper headspace to release my inner demons.

“Okay. I’ve got one. Never have I ever had multiple orgasms,” I held up my fingers as I said, “wait for it - _from a man_ \- in one session.”

Just like that, I watched as JJ and Garcia quickly dropped a finger, with the latter gasping a soft, “Oh, sweetie, no.”

“I know. It’s so sad,” I agreed.

Prentiss, though, was stuck in a thought she hadn’t yet put to words. “You know, I can’t say I’ve had them from a _man_ , either…”

Catching the qualifier, JJ leaned her chin forward on the table as she squinted to her friend. “There’s a story there that I’d _love_ to hear.”

It wasn’t just us talking now, though, with Reid giving us the first of what I’m sure would be many lessons tonight.

“You know, there’s actually a lot of research out there on multiple female orgasms. It’s not entirely possible for all women to experience them, especially in an uncomfortable environment or with a partner they don’t trust. And even though there is no refractory period for women, some will still experience a hypersensitivity so extreme it’s physically painful to be touched.”

He looked down at me at the end, and I looked up at him with a glare. Was he saying that it could be _my_ fault that I hadn’t had this experience? Because it wasn’t.

“I am **_not_** one of those women. I’m perfectly capable of it. I just need a man to be good at taking care of me.”

He licked his lips in a way that was far too enticing when he so helpfully suggested, “You should find better men.”

“Ouch,” Prentiss hissed from across the table as the others laughed at the implied insult. But personally, I was too caught up in the hidden implication.

“You know any?” I returned, earning my own response from the ladies. As I spoke, my leg crossed over the other had drifted back over towards him, knocking against his knee.

He just shook his head with a knowing smile, glancing over to me before looking away as he took a drink. It was like he was trying to tell me something…

“My turn!” JJ excitedly announced, holding her hands up to display her nine remaining fingers.

“Never have I ever used a toy during sex.”

That was my first out of the night, taken like a champ as I exclaimed, “Oof! Girl! You are missing out.”

Prentiss took another route, raising her eyebrows as she dropped her first finger with me. “Will must be very talented.”

“He _really_ is,” JJ slurred as her mind drifted. But I wasn’t buying it. “I don’t care how talented he is, he does _not_ have an electric motor.”

I heard a snort from the man on my left, but when I looked over he pretended like nothing happened. Narrowing my eyes at him, I leaned my body closer to him.

“I didn’t say anything.” He said with a shrug, but I just twisted my mouth into a perverse smile as I muttered, “I’m watching you, Reid. Don’t judge me.”

“No judgment. Just… Observing.”

There was no time to read into that statement, because Garcia had already started on the next challenge.

“Never have I ever used a pair of handcuffs in the bedroom.”

It was an easy way to get out all the girls at the table besides herself, and she knew that.

“Oh come on, everyone here has done that.” Emily scoffed.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “It’s basically required when you’re an agent…”

Garcia hummed a happy tune, holding up her eight fingers excitedly. “That’s how you play the game, sweet cheeks. Not my fault you’re all predictable!”

Her words were just begging for us to hit her with the targeted attacks, and Prentiss did not disappoint.

“Oh we’re predictable? Well, here’s one for you. Never have I ever done roleplay.”

Garcia immediately looked wounded, but didn’t drop a finger until she asked, “Does that include… cosplay?”

The look we all shot her was enough of an answer. I had already half put my finger down during the interaction, and that cemented my response.

“Emily, you’re kidding, right? Never?” JJ asked with a clear look of disbelief and suspicion written all over her face.

“Trust me,” she answered, “I’ve lived too many fake lives to get off on that.”

I took the time during the conversation to pour more alcohol into my cup, but didn’t take the shot after peeking a curious Reid.

“No commentary from you?” He finally asked after I looked up at him.

“Nope.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Unsure whether I should take it as an insult or a compliment, I narrowed my eyes as I asked “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tucked his lips in a flat line as he turned his attention back to the rest of the women, giving a soft but confident, “Nothing.”

That was the least of my worries, though, because I had just realized that it was my turn to come up with something.

Aaaand I had nothing. This was the trap I always fell into whenever I played this game — all I could think of were the weirdest things I’d ever done, and then try to change a technicality. Doing that, though, I found, meant that no one got out.

At least it was funny, I thought, so I decided to try one out.

“Never have I ever accidentally fucked my boyfriend’s best friend.”

Sure enough, I was faced with a bunch of bewildered faces.

“Accidentally?” JJ asked with a laugh before looking to her right and saying, “Wait, Emily, why are you out?”

Prentiss had already started taking a drink, which she finished and waited a second before she grimaced at the memory.

“He never told me his best friend was a woman.”

I gave a brief nod with a proud smile, “An understandable error.”

“Yeah… he was equally annoyed and enthused.”

The side conversation sent me down an entirely different train of thought. Leaning forward, I put a hand on Spencer’s thigh without thinking as I loudly complained to the woman on the other side of the table. He didn’t seem to mind, because he didn’t do anything about it.

“You know what, I hate when guys aren’t as jealous of when women cheat with women. Feels kind of homophobic, right?”

Breaking off that topic, Garcia seemed to have picked up on my strategy.

“Wait, (y/n), you’ve _definitely_ told me a story like this before.”

Shit.

“No!” I said, “I have never _accidentally_ fucked my boyfriend’s best friend.”

It didn’t take but five seconds for all three of the women to shout back, “Challenge!”

Rude.

“Oh come _on_! It wasn’t an _accident_ ,” I clarified, waving my free hand in the air like it helped emphasize my point, “We _invited_ him.”

“I don’t know…” Reid’s voice finally joined back in, and I felt his leg move under my hand.

“Sounds like you’re trying to get off on a technicality.”

Dropping my head over towards him but maintaining my eye contact with the ladies, I whined, “He didn’t even fuck me, really! Deepthroating is _not_ fucking.”

“If something can be classified as face fucking, it’s technically fucking.” Spencer chimed in, earning himself a glare from me and a shocked look from the others.

Garcia reached over me, grabbing his hand on the table.

“Reid, I don’t know whether to cover your ears so you won’t hear your own words or your mouth so you’ll never tarnish your innocent lips again.”

Taking the joke like a champ compared to how I was expecting him to react, he took his hand back and swirled the liquid in his cup before bringing it to his lips. At the same time, I realized I had been slowly migrating closer to him, my head now essentially resting against his shoulder. Before he actually drank, I heard him mutter under his breath.

“Well we know at least one pair of lips here aren’t innocent.”

I looked up at him to confirm whether or not he had been talking, only to hear him continue with an even softer, “Or two. Same girl.”

“What was that, Reid?” I asked with an accusing tone, leaning my head further onto him as I inspected the way he smiled.

“Hm? Nothing? You’re drunk.”

“So are you,” I responded, sticking my tongue out at him. With a chuckle, he bumped me with his shoulder to tell me to pay attention to JJ’s next question.

“Never have I ever touched myself to thoughts of a coworker.”

Immediately, Prentiss announced yet another failure. “I’m out. There’s something about men with accents…”

“I literally dated one. This is unfair.” Garcia reminded us.

But I was still thinking, trying to decide whether or not I should put my finger down. “Wait,” I called, “are we talking about all of our job history, or just our current coworkers?”

Then I realized the error of my ways. Because see, now they’re wondering which one would make me put my finger down.

“Actually, never mind!” I nearly shouted, putting my finger down without even the slightest bit of subtlety, “Let’s move on!”

“Uhhh… you put your finger down—“ Garcia called, with Prentiss immediately following with, “Who’s the current coworker?”

“Pffft…” I exhaled, suddenly deciding that the ceiling was very interesting, as well as everywhere else besides my coworker’s faces.

“It’s… you know. It’s… Harrison. From uhh… Organized Crime.”

Reid’s laugh was the first thing I noticed, like he was just _so_ entertained by my response. But he didn’t say anything yet, letting JJ be the one to point out the obvious.

“He does _not_ work with us.”

“She is _lying_!” Prentiss tagged on.

I could feel my face burning, and I covered my face with my right hand, hiding from the table as I realized just how obvious I could be.

“Yeah… I agree.” Reid finally concluded. That was what broke me from my position, drooping over towards him. I rested my head against his shoulder more heavily now, moving my arms to wrap around the arm closest to me.

I’m not sure if I was trying to prove my case or just beg him not to side with me for a second, but I pushed out my lower lip in a pout for a second before I murmured against his shoulder, “Et tu, Spence?”

“ _Spence_?” He asked as his eyebrows raised, a large grin across his face while he looked down at me then back up, “Oh, she’s really guilty.”

“I’m not guilty; I’m _drunk_.”

“She’s both,” he emphasized, “Definitely, _definitely_ both.”

Part of me wanted to be angry at him for calling me out, but I also knew he wasn’t wrong. I was entirely guilty, and we all knew it. I wondered if he knew exactly _how_ I was guilty, though.

Like, did he know that the current coworker was himself?

In a way, I think he tried to give me my answer. Because while my arms were wrapped around his and my face was pressed against his shoulder, my legs had also apparently drifted closer to him.

The first movement he made wasn’t pushing me off of him or inching away. No, Spencer instead placed one of his hands on top of my thigh, running it down a few inches before settling a few inches above my knee.

When my eyes flickered up to him, he had a smile, but wasn’t looking at me. I honest to god almost asked him right there, before realizing that I didn’t want to spook him. Also, it was Garcia’s turn.

“Never have I ever fantasized about the condom breaking and getting pregnant.”

And apparently she wants me to fucking murder her in the middle of a bar. Naturally, all the girls immediately turned to me, with Garcia clearing her throat while she waited for me to put my finger down.

Spencer was the last person to look down at me, and I don’t know if it was just wishful thinking, but I swear his hand on my leg got tighter. 

“I told you that in _confidence_!” I yelled in a hushed tone, as if Spencer wouldn’t be able to hear it either way.

“I mean, we didn’t tell anyone else.” Prentiss pointed out.

Removing one hand from his arm, I gestured wildly in front of him as I huffed out a sound of general discontent.

“I can keep a secret,” he appealed calmly. I didn’t care, letting out a loud whine as I buried my face into his sleeve.

“You never did tell us who it was you were fantasizing about,” Garcia continued, like she hadn’t done enough damage already.

“Was it…” JJ laughed, clearing her throat before mocking me with a crude imitation of my voice, “ _Harrison_?”

“ _Stop_ ,” I mumbled without moving from my position against Spencer’s very warm shoulder that smelled like sandalwood and bergamot. 

“She’s not lying, but she’s definitely guilty.” He so lovingly pointed out before patting my leg. “Harrison is a lucky man.”

“I hate you all, and we’re not friends anymore.” It was a lie. I still loved them all. But most of all, I loved the way Spencer only seemed to be moving closer to me the longer I stayed like this.

Eventually, I turned my face so that I could see everyone again while still remaining as close as possible to him. His presence was having this weird effect where I felt so comforted by the way his thumb migrated back and forth against my skin, but also felt like I was going to explode from the energy building in my lower half.

I hoped that Prentiss would be a little more forgiving than Garcia had been. Heaven knows she knew some shit she could get me out on.

“Never have I ever referred to a man, besides my father, as ‘Daddy’.”

Luckily, she showed mercy. Because whether they believed it or not, I had not done that. I held up my remaining fingers beaming with pride, just to be immediately shot down.

“(Y/n) is lying!” Garcia shouted, leading me to bark back, “No I am not!”

“Oh you definitely are.” Prentiss said, revealing that she _was_ trying to get me out.

“Listen. Do you know how much of a man I would need for me to actually call him ‘Daddy’?” I said, including the air quotes and everything. “I’m not sure that man exists.”

“I challenge!” JJ yelled over the chaos, but all I could do was roll my eyes. 

“Oh come _on_! Do I really scream sub that hard?”

Interestingly, Spencer could tell that something was off with my response. So I guess I didn’t scream sub enough for _him_ to have already predetermine what my answer should be.

“I can’t tell, actually…”

Thank god, I thought. That was, until I felt a very gentle hand under my chin, tilting me up to look at him from my position. Which, I had just realized was essentially sitting in his lap. “(Y/n), look at me.”

I couldn’t control the coquettish giggle that erupted from my mouth at the touch, despite biting on my lip as I tried to maintain the suffocating eye contact.

“Have you ever called a man daddy before?”

Oh, god, this was getting to me. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest and onto his arm, and I wondered if he could feel it, too. Dizzy and with dreamy eyes, I somehow had the self-preservation to softly say, “No.”

His hand dropped and he returned his attention to the others so fast I nearly got whiplash from the change in tone.

“No, she’s not lying. Never done it.”

At least one of them believed me. And the one I wanted to believe me the most, nonetheless. Wasn’t going to tell him that, though.

The ladies were whispering to each other after we displayed that little moment, but I didn’t really care. Honestly, I wanted to keep the little private moment going.

“Psst. Spence. Spence.” I hissed from his side, tilting my head up towards his ear. He looked over at me completely unbothered.

“Help me come up with one.”

“You want my help?” He asked, gesturing to himself with his drink in his hand. “I thought I wasn’t experienced enough for your game.”

I rolled my eyes at the implied complaint, and sighed, “Tell me the best thing you can think.”

He thought for a second, then asked me to clarify. “The best, or the worst?”

With a sneaky smile, I pressed, “Both.”

“Oh, I got one.”

That was fast. I was a little nervous, mostly because I was giving him the opportunity to essentially ask me if I’ve ever done anything. Before he got his answer, I wanted to know why he asked.

“Do you think I’ve done it?”

“I’m curious.”

That was vague.

“What is it?”

Now it was his turn to come close to me, and with his hand now rooted firmly on my thigh, he breathed in my ear, “Repeat after me.”

I gave a small nod in assent, and tried to follow his direction as he spoke only a few words at a time.

“Never have I ever… let a man hold me down and fuck—“ My voice caught in my throat as I realized everyone was watching me. “A-and fuck me like a cheap whore.”

If I wasn’t shit faced drunk, I’m pretty sure I would have died right there. Worse yet, Spencer just sat back up like nothing had happened. He didn’t even have so much as a smile on his face.

Prentiss was the first to speak what was on everyone’s mind. “Are you sure about that, (y/n)? Pretty sure you’ve told me differently.”

“Yeah babe, that’s like half the dates you’ve explained to me.” Garcia tagged on, followed by JJ’s confused, exasperated tone. “Why are you _trying_ to get yourself out?”

It hadn’t been the first time they’d accused me of something like that, and I could feel the frustration in my gut before I managed to speak.

“ _I’m_ not!” I screeched, “I didn’t come up with it! It was Spencer!”

The man just threw his hands in the air in feigned innocence, nearly smacking me in the process. “What?!” He cried, “That’s preposterous! I would never say something like that!”

I dropped my mouth open, shoving him with my entire body in the seat. He just laughed, continuing his defense with, “I’m too vanilla to even play this game!”

Not buying it, I narrowed my eyes until I could barely see the amused look he returned. “What? What’s that look for?”

I was almost too lost in the interaction to hear the way Prentiss’ voice turned sneaky, muttering in that suspiciously devious tone. “Hey, JJ, Garcia, how about we go get another drink at the bar?”

“Yeah…” JJ agreed as Spencer turned to glance at them, “that’s a good idea.”

Garcia followed, but not before I heard a grumble sounding remarkably like, “Dammit, right when it was getting interesting…”

Then it was just me and Spencer.

Alone. Drunk. At a bar. I was basically sitting on his lap.

And as peeved as I was, I had to admit what he pulled was pretty funny. More so coming from him.

Now that the girls had left, I felt emboldened to at least try to fluster him like he had done to me. But when I swung my legs over onto his lap, all he did was hold them in place with one hand. In yet another shocking twist, his other hand wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

“Who taught you to talk like that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Why do you think I had to learn it from someone else?”

That was a question I wasn’t really anticipating. Anyone who knew Spencer had pretty much the same view on him. He was always just so… unassuming. I didn’t know how else to explain it, and I wasn’t really mentally prepared to try.

“Because… You’re… You.”

He looked away for a second, clearly annoyed about something. If I were sober, I might’ve been able to tell.

“Ask me.”

I tilted my head at the order, trying to figure out what he meant.

“Ask me what my score was,” he clarified.

Deciding to play along, I shrugged my shoulders up and bounced closer to him with excitement. “What was it?”

“If the questions were worded differently, it would have been the same as yours.”

There was absolutely no hesitation to his voice, and his eyes were peering down at me like they could actually burn into my soul. If someone had asked me what I was thinking at that moment, it certainly wouldn’t have been a correct guess as to what would follow.

“Hmmm.” I had hummed, tapping my chin with a finger as I looked over the current situation. Then, for god knows what reason, I had dared to apparently say the worst possible thing.

“Yeah, I guess if you aren’t vanilla you would be pretty submissive.”

“ _Wow_.” He sneered, taking his hand off my leg to down the contents of his cup, pouring another shot without even looking back at me.

“What?” I asked a bit annoyed, missing the way his hand held my legs. 

“There’s a lot of things you assume about me that are wrong.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d offended him, and my drunk ass was convinced that I still couldn’t be wrong. After all, it was _Spencer Reid_. He was the office baby! He couldn’t… actually be as dirty as he seemed on that case and in that moment, right?

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, Spencer.” I said apologetically, “I’m not- I’m not saying it’s a bad thing!”

“Here.” He roughly pulled me even further on his lap, my butt now settled directly on his thigh. I tensed under the touch as he held up his other hand in front of my face.

“I have given pretty much every woman I’ve ever been with multiple orgasms.”

He dropped a finger as he spoke, “I have my own drawer of toys next to my bed and in my closet. It includes several pairs of handcuffs, among other things for a busy night of role play.”

That took him down to one finger on his hand, which he didn’t drop just yet. But my heart was already beating so fast and so hard, I thought I might actually be sick. I had learned so much so quickly, I could hardly keep up. But he kept going nonetheless.

“While I’ll admit I’ve never fucked my girlfriend’s best friend, I won’t say I’m not interested if one of them is you. But it certainly won’t be an _accident_.”

His hand on my back was pressing against me as I tried to shrink back, the proximity to him while he uttered these words being entirely too much. I could feel my thighs tensing together and knew he could, too.

“Assuming the question about touching yourself to a coworker is only for current members of the team, it still doesn’t matter. I’m out. I’m guessing you can figure that one out yourself.”

I was now writhing in his lap, biting on my bottom lip as I tried to meet his eyes that were still digging into me like I was already naked in his lap. Now that all his fingers were down, he started to go backwards as he continued.

“I certainly share your enthusiasm for the idea of fucking a girl so hard even the most durable latex fails us.” He put up his pointer finger, “And I haven’t been called Daddy just yet, but I’m hoping that’ll change soon.”

With his middle finger joining his pointer finger in a rather provocative hand motion, he swiftly dropped his hand to loop around the straps of my hardness between my breasts, pulling my face up to his.

“Because see, the thing is, _I’m_ not the one being **fucked** , _kitten_. I’m the one holding you down.”

I blinked my wide eyes rapidly, trying to take in everything I’d just heard in order to properly respond. The fact the women were somewhere in the bar meant absolutely nothing to me in that moment. In fact, nothing fucking mattered to me beyond getting this man alone with me.

Allowing my instincts to take over, I brought my hands up, lacing them through his hair and pulling him down into a ravenous open-mouthed kiss. Our faces felt like fire as we drowned in the taste of vodka and each other.

It had only been a few seconds and I was already moaning into his mouth, desperately pulling him closer. His hand on my back dropped down to my hips, the other taking a similar grip on my hair.

When we finally broke apart for air, I could barely get anything out beyond the needy panting. But I did manage to say the most important thing.

“You wanna get out of here?”

And in true _not-at-all-submissive_ fashion, he smirked as he said, “Lead the way, kitten.” 


	2. Chapter Two

I was no stranger to taboo things before tonight, but that didn’t make it any less exciting to all but fuck my coworker in an impassioned frenzy in the back of an Uber on the way to my apartment.

Beyond the casual greeting given to the poor driver, the only noises made the rest of the way were those of frantically meeting lips and pants, our limbs entangled in a mess of need. 

That didn’t change once we finally made it inside, with Spencer immediately slamming me against the door once it closed behind us, pressing me against the door so hard I could hardly breathe.

“Bedroom,” I begged, pushing on his chest as he struggled to break his lips away from where they were sucking soft bruises into my neck. But once he did, he didn’t make any further arguments, dragging me by my arm down the hallway.

He’d only been to my place a few times, and I’d never actually had him in my bedroom. I was more than happy to change that, because as soon as we breached that entrance, he all but tossed me towards the bed.

When I turned around to face him half on the bed, he was already encasing me within his grasp. A wanton moan followed as his hand quickly made its way up my skirt, grabbing my underwear and yanking it down from my hips.

“Fuck me,” I whined, lifting my bottom to help him remove my clothes faster, my hands clawing at the buttons on his shirt before he grabbed my wrist to slow me down. 

“I’ve waited _years_ to fuck you,” he said with his voice dripping with possessiveness, “I’m taking my time with you.”

That alone was enough to cause my head to fall back, my entire body rolling up towards him as he worked to remove my skirt altogether. The second that my lower half was fully revealed to him, he cupped my sex with his hand, refusing to slip past the folds as he watched the way I tried to take a deep breath.

“You do scream sub that hard, by the way.”

I hardly caught the reference as a bunch of lewd noises poured out of my mouth, my hands gripping his arm in an effort to beg him to touch me. He actually laughed in response, but still showed mercy.

Once his finger breached my heat, I rewarded him with a loud, drawn out moan. He responded by immediately adding a second finger, stretching me open as he coated his fingers with my essence.

“Tell me what you thought about when you touched yourself,” he taunted, “Did you picture me kissing you softly? Telling you how beautiful you are?”

Bending over me, he whispered cruelly in my ear, “Did you picture me holding you close while I _made love_ to you?”

“S-Spencer,” I sobbed as his fingers began thrusting into me at a tireless pace, his lips starkly contrasting the sinful touch by giving me a soft kiss against my cheekbone.

“Sorry to disappoint you, kitten. But that’s not what’s going to happen tonight.”

I wasn’t even able to tell him that it wasn’t disappointing, but it would come clear in my actions. My nails were digging into his skin now, feeling the way his muscles tensed under my touch as he began stroking inside me with each thrust. 

“Oh, _kitten_ ,” he cooed as he no doubt felt the way my muscles progressively seized as I was approaching an orgasm that came out of nowhere. “I’ve _barely_ touched you.”

His words only served to push me over the edge, and all I could focus on was the way my body clenched around his fingers which never stopped their assault on my senses throughout it all. I couldn’t even scream, instead just panting a string of obscenities into the air.

Once it was over, my back finally falling back onto the bed, he withdrew his hand. I whimpered at the loss, trying to keep my eyes open to watch the way he inspected the fruits of his labor on his fingers.

Looking down at me with a sympathetic smirk, he shook his head at the state of me.

“What kind of pathetic men are you letting fuck you?”

I couldn’t even come up with a response, because I was too scared to tell him that after tonight, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to let _anyone_ else fuck me.

Instead of instructing me to get on the bed he merely grabbed my hips, tossing me further up onto the bed. My body bounced lightly from the impact and my legs shook as I scrambled into the center. 

He was watching me carefully as he finally started to strip his shirt and pants. I was burning with jealousy at the fact that he would be able to remember this experience so much better than me.

Without any other warning, he was on the bed, his forearms on either side of my head as he stole another heated kiss. The scruff on his face lightly scratched my skin as he attempted to devour my soul through the meeting of our lips.

My hands were anywhere I could get them, exploring the expanse of his back freely for the first time.

“ _Please_ ,” I cried when his mouth moved to my jaw and neck.

“Not yet, kitten,” he said with a laugh.

I couldn’t believe it, my back arching as his hands roughly toyed with my breasts, his mouth joining them soon after. 

“Spencer, what the **fuck**. _Please_.” It was a shameless plea that would lead to nothing, because his mouth was already too busy. His tongue circled the pebbled peak, biting down softly before sucking harshly.

“I swear to God, Spencer — If I don’t get your dick inside of me soon I’m going to die.” The words were ground out through clenched teeth. It was my attempt to stymie the desire to continuously scream out his name.

It only barely worked, because once he switched sides I was struggling to breathe again. This time he looked up at me from his position. His hand and mouth together covered my breast, and the image caused my currently inextinguishable desire to skyrocket.

A butchered mess of his name and various expletives were all I could produce as he continued to move down my body. My hips were now wildly bucking as he tried to hold them down, dragging his tongue up along my hip bones.

“Fucking _do_ something, **_please_** ,” I whined, which did nothing but make him stop everything, looking up at me with a challenging stare. He was daring me to get mouthy, to stop him from continuing altogether.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the words rushed out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I’ll be patient. Please don’t stop.”

“Good girl,” he praised before blowing a small breath of cool air against my scorching sex. I jerked at the sensation, still trying to reach his touch while he pressed down on my hips.

But his hands didn’t last long there, because he was soon using them to spread my legs apart, one hand returning to my now soaking arousal.

“Sir sounds… nice.” He spoke as his lips closed in, his tongue darting out to drag between my folds. Then he stopped again, looking at the way I struggled to keep my eyes open, let alone look him in the eyes.

“But there is another name I’d like to hear from you.”

I had somehow almost forgotten one of the few Nevers we’d had in common, but he seemed eager to remind me. Immediately challenging whether or not he’d passed the threshold for me to use the name, his tongue dove between my legs.

The sounds of him lapping up my previous release while his fingers crept closer to entering me was too much to bear. I could barely swallow between the guttural moans and screams, my hands somehow finding their way into his hair.

I tugged at the fine brown strands between my fingers, my legs coming up and hugging his ears as he continued to satiate himself. My back was arched so dramatically I couldn’t look at the way he ravaged me if I wanted to.

Firmly holding him in place, my hips started rocking against his mouth just in time for his fingers to slip back inside me. His tongue effortlessly flowed up to my swollen bud, sucking it into his mouth.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Spencer!” It was the only comprehensible sentence I’d said in what felt like forever. It turned out to be a mistake, because it elicited a quick response from him.

He moaned against me, the vibrations sending a shockwave of tremors throughout my entire body. Soon after I had once again devolved into a spasming mess of licentious desire, my body desperately trying to draw him further into me as I came on his fingers.

The harsh groans and flicks of his tongue didn’t stop, even after I had finished. It took me firmly pushing his face away from me for him to actually stop. It wasn’t that it didn’t feel amazing, I just knew that if I didn’t get a chance to fuck him soon I wasn’t going to be able to survive long enough.

“You’re no fun.” He laughed as he wiped the evidence of his actions from his chin, tilting his head to follow my hands as they still gripped his hair.

“I _need_ you,” I groaned, dropping my hands to the sheets. But then he was above me again, and my hands were raking down his chest, my body trying to keep up with the insatiable desire I had for this man.

“Tell me what you need from me, kitten.” He instructed, his hand grabbing hold of my cheeks and chin, forcing me to look at him while I spoke through my puckered lips.

“ _Fuck me, Daddy_.”

The grin he gave me in response to the name nearly had me trembling without anything else. I was able to gather enough energy in my muscles to bring a hand to his erection, beginning to gently stroke it while watching the way his mouth fell open, a sharp inhale as my hold on him got tighter. 

“So how dedicated are you to that condom breaking fantasy?” He mumbled through his enthusiastic response to my touch. I tilted my head in response to ask him to explain why he was asking. 

“I’m only asking because… we could just skip the condom altogether.”

I gave my own little simper, a sure sign that I wholeheartedly agreed with his plan. He wasn’t wasting time anymore, drawing his hips back out of my grasp and lining himself up to enter me.

“You should consider yourself lucky, kitten. I don’t normally let girls ride bareback.”

The tiny inebriated giggle that escaped my lips was the best indication of my current state of mind, my hips rotating in small circles to try and take him in. Naturally, I trusted him with my life. Literally, he was my partner in a job where our lives were regularly on the line.

Thankfully he felt the same, leaning forward as he kissed the tip of my nose as he slowly sunk into me. “But I think you’re worth an exception.”

I was nearly sobbing as he continued to press into me an inch at a time, giving his own groan as he stopped at only halfway entering me.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he muttered under his breath, “two orgasms in and you’re still way too fucking tight.”

“I don’t fucking care,” I panted, “fucking tear me in two. I **need** you to fuck me _right now_.”

“Fine,” he answered, slamming the rest of the way into me with no hesitation. I yelled from the force knocking the air from my chest. “You asked for it.”

If the alcohol made me drunk, the pleasure I was experiencing made me fucking delirious. It was like the only things that existed in the world in that moment were our bodies, melding together in the cover of the night.

With a few more rough, experimental thrusts, he began to set into his rhythm. It wasn’t as fast as it was purposeful, and with each motion I could feel the pent-up frustration he’d carried with him all these years.

It was painful to think of all the nights I went home with some random stranger at the bar when I could have been writhing in pleasure under Spencer Reid. My hands rested on his stomach, feeling the way it tensed as he brought himself closer to me, our bodies synchronizing in the way only partners could.

There was something more than the general longing in his touch, his jaw clenching whenever he looked down at the mess of me below him. Before I knew it, he brought the two fingers that had been buried inside me up to my mouth. 

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out to accept them, only a little surprised when he immediately slid them to the back of my mouth, halting my screams of pleasure as I nearly choked on the intrusion.

My eyes quickly welled with tears as I looked up at him full of need, my rhythm faltering as I closed my eyes, to avoid the overwhelming sight of his wild expression as he plowed into me.

He wasn’t having it, holding his fingers against my tongue as he ordered, “Look at me.”

I batted my eyelashes to rid my vision of the tears, trying to moan when he started to talk again. 

“I can’t believe you had the nerve to call me a fucking _sub_. Some profiler you are.” Now when he sheathed himself inside me, he would grind our bodies further together while my body tried to retreat. He didn’t allow it to.

“I’ll bet you were just too scared of what I would do to you. You were scared you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

I tried to nod around his fingers, my fingers scratching at his chest as I lifted my hips to better accept him as my muscles protested the excessive use.

“You _knew_ I would fucking _ruin_ you if you let me.”

He was right; the deep denial had been obvious in each of our interactions leading up to this point. With a satisfied smirk, he pulled his upper body back, looking down at me as he dragged his fingers from my mouth.

“Well now here we are. Were you right, kitten?”

Unable to string together enough sense to answer his question, I just said the first thing I could think. “Fuck me harder, Daddy,” I rasped, “I’m so close.”

“Ask and you shall receive,” he joked, now thrusting into me with enough power to shove me up the bed. I threw my hands over my head, stopping myself from moving closer to the headboard. 

“You ready to know what it feels like when I fill up your little cunt, kitten?”

The words alone were enough to cause my entire body to freeze before shaking uncontrollably. Through the ecstasy as my third orgasm of the night started to tear through me, I cried out to him. 

“ _Yes_ , Daddy, _yes_!”

“Good,” he responded as he grabbed my hips, pulling my hips flush against him as an unfamiliar warmth seeped through my stomach. “Fucking take it.”

It was hard to breathe, to see, to feel anything beyond his cock fully buried inside of me. The soft, harmonized twitches and pulsing of our bodies echoed through my mind, filling all of my thoughts with him.

“Spencer,” I said in the loudest voice I could manage, which was a mere whisper at this point.

Luckily, he could hear me, returning his own gentle recitation of my name before collapsing down on top of me, barely holding himself up from crushing me. 

We laid there together for a few minutes, my hands still ghosting over his skin. I must not have gotten enough of his skin on mine, because some part of me still just craved his touch.

Spencer didn’t mind, his face resting in the crook of my neck pressing soft, lazy kisses on the skin as he took deep breaths against my hair.

“Spencer, I…” I whispered, grunting as he started moving within me, “Ah, _fuck_!”

“Don’t get comfortable, kitten.”

Those vague words were the last things he said before he pulled out of me, peeling his body off of mine and leaning over me to open the drawer of the nightstand on my side of the bed.

“Spence, _what_ are you doing?” I asked, exhausted and confused.

“Looking for something,” he very unhelpfully explained. 

“What could you possibly be looking for?” I whined, wiping at my smeared make up, as if it would somehow sober me up.

“Something with a motor.”

It took me a second to realize what he meant, and I struggled to prop myself up on my elbows, reaching over to try and stop him from going through the drawer as I shouted, “Spencer, _no_!”

“So it’s definitely in here, then.” He observed, turning to watch me as his hand grew closer to the small velvet pouch where I kept my favorite toy. I just glared at him, knowing very well that he was reading my responses to (successfully) find what he wanted.

“Stooppp,” I very unconvincingly pleaded, “please!”

“No.”

Dropping my head back, I rolled my neck over to look at him as I sighed, “Three orgasms is plenty, trust me.”

“Not enough for me,” he said with a grin while pulling the small bullet vibrator out from the bag and resuming his position above me.

“W-wait,” I stuttered as he held down the power button, bringing the tiny weapon to life, “Wait, wa—Ah!”

The gentle rumbling was against my stomach as he glided it against my skin in a quickly descending path.

“Sorry, what was that?”

My hands were firmly rooted in the sheets as he passed over my pubic bone, nestling the toy directly against my clit without hesitation. I wasn’t in any control of my voice, which immediately called out his name. 

“S-Spencer!”

His face was back by my neck, dragging his nose delicately along my skin while driving me back into the abyss.

“I wanna hear you purr, kitten.” He crooned, shifting the toy just enough to force me into my fourth release, my body gripping the release he had left behind.

My moans weren’t his name, or words at all; they were just desperate, lewd mewls. He was soaking them in, continuing to lay light kisses on my cheeks.

Once it had finally ended, I made a point of communicating as such. My hands attempted to shove his hand and the offending toy way, but he held them steadfast.

“One more time.” 

I didn’t understand at first, but then he began to roll his wrist, twisting the vibrator in small, slow circles around my most sensitive spot. 

“One more—?! **F-Fuck**!” I screeched before I lost the capability of making noise. It was only a matter of seconds before I had devolved into shambles, my limbs unceremoniously jerking and twitching.

I could barely hear what he was saying through the haze, but I felt his hand tenderly stroking my face as he brushed my hair away. It, along with the rest of me, was drenched in sweat, but he was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“You’re right,” he smiled, his lips lightly pecking next to my mouth as I gasped for air. “I would’ve been missing out if I hadn’t done this.”

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I felt the final wave of my release, my body frozen in place for what felt like an eternity.

Spencer’s calm, affectionate tone kept me tethered to reality. 

“ _Good girl_.” 

He sounded immensely proud of me as he finally withdrew the vibrations, and the room went silent as they finally turned off.

I tried to keep my eyes open, watching as he set the object down on the nightstand, flopping over onto his side to avoid crushing me again. Which was a good thing, because it was hard enough to breathe already.

As glad as I was that it was over, and I could finally rest, a large part of me already missed his touch. But he was still touching me somehow, his hand on my stomach as his own exhaustion was etched on his features.

“You’re so fucking lucky,” I mumbled, struggling to force my body to move even just a couple of inches. 

He laughed, readjusting his other arm under his head. “I mean, I agree. For a lot of reasons. But which one are you thinking of?”

Flattered by the implication, I just shook my head, looking over to him with a softness I didn’t think was possible after what we’d just done.

“You don’t have to get up right now.”

“True. Not going to, either,” he joked, “Unless you’re gonna kick me out.”

I smiled one of those smiles that creases your eyes and radiates the joy required to feel that alive. Although difficult, I managed to lean forward to kiss him in an entirely different way.

Because I wasn’t kissing him to beg him to fuck me. I wasn’t doing it because I was driven by need, trying to catch up with years of pent up sexual frustration. 

No, it wasn’t that type of kiss. It was the sort of kiss that made this situation so incredibly taboo. I didn’t just want to fuck Spencer Reid.

I wanted to love him.

So as I pulled away and stared into my favorite pair of cocoa eyes, all I could think to say was, “ _Never._ I hope you stay forever.”

— _The Next Morning_ —

What the **fuck**.

My head was pounding, and the sun drifting through my windows was bright enough to fucking blind me. I wasn’t sure if I was unable to feel my legs, or if they were honestly even still attached. 

Everything felt like hellfire and regret, and it was _so fucking hot_.

It wasn’t until I tried to spread my legs out that I realized there was **another fucking person in my bed**.

I was scared to turn around, trying to piece together the last memories I had of the night leading up to heading home. I remembered chasing shots of vodka with even more vodka, playing the game with the ladies, and…

The memories hit me like a truck, and I heard Spencer’s groans of displeasure before I even turned around.

“Fuck.” He muttered, mirroring my exact thoughts.

I turned around, albeit slowly, looking at the man laying naked beside me, his arm draped over his face.

“Good morning?” I asked more than said, knowing very well it was not a good morning.

“Why did we think a handle of vodka was a good idea?” At least that was the first thing he thought to regret, I told myself. 

“I just… I don’t know.”

Peeking out from under his arm, a small smile crept across his face.

“The rest of the night was pretty good, though.”

My heart leapt into my throat, and I pulled the blankets over my face so he couldn’t see the giddiness in my smile.

“Yeah… It was fun,” I mumbled into the fabric, “We should do it again sometime.”

Tugging the sheet away from my face and wrapping an arm around me, he pulled me into a tired but happy kiss. I pressed our foreheads together before he could even think to retreat.

“How much do you remember?” I asked, genuinely hoping he had forgotten at least some of the embarrassing details. But I wasn’t that lucky.

“I remember _everything_ , _Kitten_ ,” he answered. Lucky bastard.

Ignoring his proud smirk, I turned back around to reach for my phone on my nightstand, surprised to see that I had a plethora of unread messages from…

Oh **no.**

“Good morning to the lovebirds!” It was the first message I saw, with a tiny thumbnail next to it that showed me, sitting on Spencer’s lap, with my tongue shoved down his throat.

 _For fucks sake_ , I thought, _could I have been any sloppier?_ I grimaced, reading the rest of the messages that were mostly referencing answers from the game I barely remembered.

But I remembered enough. And as I tapped at my screen, I felt Spencer’s hands on me again, pulling himself up against my back while he grumpily tried to get my attention.

“I better start planning my Nevers for next time,” I joked, “Because mine just got a whole lot harder.”


End file.
